The Stray Cat of the Wind
by Kamonohashikamo
Summary: What happens when Train and his motley crew run into an SS-Class criminal working as a sweeper? Not only that, but she is also a half-Taoist! Is there some kind of dark past hidden behind all of this?...


[ Chapter One: Chance Meeting / SS-Class Criminal ]

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Black Cat. Only my OC. ^0^

_Click-click-click. _The girl leaned against her motorcycle, reloading a shotgun with bullets from the bag that hung on her belt, and she slung it across her back like she'd done many times before. The wind tousled her short brown hair, uneven from the many fights and explosions she'd been in. Her jacket flapped around her as the wind got stronger, and she smiled as it did. A few days ago, a cheap trader had given it to her because apparently it looked too much like the coat the legendary assassin 'Black Cat' had worn. He obviously had poor eyesight, because it was trimmed with a tawny gold, but she wore it like a cloak (without inserting her arms in) just to reassure the poor guy. The girl hopped on the motorcycle and revved the engine, taking out a small license card just before the engine silenced itself into a soft humming.

It was a sweeper's license, also known as a bounty hunter's license. The picture showed an eighteen-year old with a mysterious grin, with amber-brown eyes and short, uneven hair. The name that scrolled below the title 'Official Sweeper' was Nemesis Avalon Jinxlaide, but everyone at the sweeper café called her Neme. A small smirk flashed across her face before she set off toward the south, leaving the shoddy shacks behind in her dust. She rummaged in her pocket for another piece of paper, this one brown and stained by things like coffee: a wanted poster. The man on the poster was an SS-Class criminal by the name of Ret, with gray eyes like the stormy clouds. He was a familiar person, but she knew all too well that capturing him would finally give her enough money to buy her own food.

Neme stopped at an old warehouse, worn down by the winds and rusted by the rain. Night had begun to fall, and the moonlight cast an eerie glow off the white metal. _Honestly, though. _The voice in her mind was sharp and mocking. _I would have never thought an SS-Class criminal would take headquarters in such a dismal place. Even _I _live in better conditions… _Neme took the shotgun off her back and held it at the ready, moving in through the front door.

She wasn't surprised the front wasn't guarded. Of course, they'd be focusing all their attention on the back, but the main reason was because of the poor looks of the place. The outside didn't even look as half as bad as the inside. The inside was almost pitch-black, but Neme could see the silhouettes of fallen support beams, broken paint cans, and various boxes of this and that strewn across the floor. She stepped forward into the wreckage, and heard shouting. Hostages, she thought, or maybe rebelling members. Inwardly, she groaned. If they were hostages, she'd have to rescue_ them _first so Ret didn't give the orders to kill them. If they were rebelling members, it was just one more problem she had to face.

Neme picked up a heavy rock before advancing forward, but a pair of glowing yellow cat eyes caused her flinch, drop the rock, and made her reach for her gun. The rock banged on a heavy piece of wood, which just happened to be positioned like a catapult. On the other end was another rock, and it launched over Neme's head and crashed into shelves of paint, which spilled onto the floor. She hissed and hid behind one of the few support beams still standing, breathing heavily. There was a grunt, and a few mumbles.

"Not again…" she heard, before Ret himself walked out. His hand lit up with flames, illuminating the warehouse. Neme dove for cover so her shadow wouldn't be seen, and aimed her shotgun straight to Ret's knee. It plainly showed a scar there, and if she split that scar open, he'd be permanently disabled. She was about to pull the trigger, but one of Ret's men slipped on the paint and fell, burying Neme under another layer of wreckage, but at least she could still see and aim. Sighing, she went to pull the trigger again, yet her eyes and Ret's met, locking together. They both smiled, and Neme popped out of the pile of various items.

"Well, thanks for not letting me have to kill you without a fight." Neme grinned. "I would have hated that." Ret snarled and shot a fireball at her, which Neme dodged and fired a counter-bullet an inch away from his ear. "That there's just a warning. Sure you don't want to run away yet?"

Ret's eyes lit up with a fiery madness, and Neme fired again. It was immediately melted in a wall of fire, turning into a puddle of pure bronze. Neme made a face and stuck her tongue out at him, aiming her gun at his knee again.

"You'll never catch me." Ret snarled, surrounding her inside a circle of fire. "My powers are far more superior than-"

A gust of wind blew throughout the warehouse, cold and bitter as ice, extinguishing the fire instantly. "You were saying?" The sweeper smiled mysteriously, her jacket flapping dramatically. "My luck is far more superior than what hell you can throw at me." Nemesis charged at Ret, twirling her shotgun around so the weight lay at the other end, and brought it down on his head with a sickening crack.

Ret blinked for a few seconds, dazed, and Neme climbed the support beams and balanced carefully on a stable one five feet above Ret's head. He looked around, confused, and she swung down and kicked him from behind and caught onto another support beam like a circus acrobat. She smiled at Ret upside down, silently boasting her prowess in the ability to handle fire-using SS-Class criminals. Neme reloaded her gun, and shot at his lieutenants running up to his side, three in the knee and two in the foot.

"You dare-" Ret started.

"-oh yeah, I dare." Neme mocked, sticking her tongue out at him. "You couldn't catch a sweeper if it was holding a sign that said I'M A SWEEPER HERE TO CATCH YA and singing "I'm A Little Bounty Hunter"".

Ret's gray eyes grew red with rage, and he charged at Neme, who dropped down from the support beam and swept-kicked him, knocking the criminal off his feet. She stood over him, eyes with deep disapproval.

"Taoist." The sweeper murmured. She knelt down and pushed up his sleeve, and lo behold, a ying-yang symbol burned into Ret's arm. Neme was almost never wrong. She was about to shoot his knee and introduce him to a world of pain, but a series of shots caught her attention. Neme whacked Ret with her gun again, just to make sure he was knocked out cold this time, and looked around. Probably more henchmen.

Neme almost yelped when she saw the pair of glowing cat eyes again, accompanied by the sound of firing bullets, glowing feathers, and sound of a suitcase making contact with flesh. She tilted her head curiously and sped back to Ret's unconscious body, guarding her free ticket to dinner. She climbed up the support beams again, holding her shotgun like a sniper, searching for any movement among the darkness. She smiled to herself. 20/5 vision and ultimate shotgun skills. What could make a better sweeper?

Sudden movement to the right of Ret caught Neme's eye, and she focused intently on that direction, a breeze of wind rustling her hair. There they were again: glowing cat eyes, glowing feathers, and the sound of a suitcase opening and closing. Her mouth twitched in an irritated yet amused smile. Still more henchmen. She'd have to make this quick. She aimed her shotgun straight at Ret's scar, and pulled the trigger. She stood up, balancing on the beam, staring down at the bullet rushing toward Ret, when suddenly another incoming bullet crashed into her's and exploded.

Nemesis yelled in the smoke as she heard Ret come to and run out of the warehouse. She coughed and banged her shotgun against the support beam in frustration, breaking it and letting her tumble to the floor. As the smoke cleared, she saw who fired the bullet that made her lose a lifetime's worth of food: a man with yellow eyes like a cat's with a blue jacket with donuts on them, and a black gun with XIII emblazoned on it. The Black Cat. Beside him was an eleven year old girl with some sort of white aura and an old man with green hair and an eye patch.

In the presence of a legendary-assassin-turned-sweeper, she should have been awed, but instead Neme walked towards him with a ferocious death glare.

"IDIOT!" she yelled at him, startling all three of them. "I COULD HAVE GOTTEN A LIFETIME'S WORTH OF FOOD! BUT WHAT DO YOU DO, YOU _INTERFERE_, YOU AMATUER FOOL!"


End file.
